penultimate
by the unbirthday girl
Summary: Angst and implied love with a dash of the undead.—3 vignettes(black hamburger; ghost aches); percynico, jasonpiper, jasonreyna, leocalypso ;; [for pallet town @ the FI winter exchange]


**a/n. hi zoey, and happy winter or whatever i guess? **

**we've never really talked so idk if you'll like this because it's pretty weird and idk but zombie apocalypse (originality is my middle name, what do you mean) just came to me man. also none of the pairings really show up like actually... sorry?**

**i did follow your prompts but the first thing i wrote i didn't like. :((( so now they're vignette-things and i hope you don't mind. **

* * *

_black&blue_

* * *

When they get to the apartment, it's empty.

Dirty, covered in blood, and breathing hard, Percy enters the kitchen and slides down onto the cold tile floor, leaning back against the wooden cabinets. Nico follows him into the small room soon after, flicks the light switch a few times, and sighs when the bulb fizzles and sparks before going out for good.

It's quiet. Percy's breathing slows, and Nico almost believes he's fallen asleep there on the floor, until he says, "Staying here tonight?"

Nico nods, and then, realizing that Percy may not be able to see it in the dark, replies hoarsely, "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

He hears Percy let out another heavy breath, and then a series of shuffling noises as he pulls himself to his feet. Percy walks past Nico (he smells terrible, but they both do, so whatever) and into a short hallway. Nico once again finds himself following the technically-older boy, this time into a slightly cramped bedroom, two of its four walls nearly covered in video game posters. Nico tries not to let his gaze linger too long on the framed picture of Annabeth propped up on the bedside table.

Percy tosses him a pillow. "We can set up on the couches. Because you're not sleeping in my mom's room; that's weird."

"One of us can take the b—"

"No, I'm not sleeping in here," Percy interrupts, almost snappishly. He looks away from Nico's face and begins pulling the sheets from the bed. When he's finished and got them all bundled in his arms, he says, in a softer tone, "Go ahead. It's late."

They spread the sheets and pillows on the two small living room couches in a way that should be marginally comfortable; Nico is awarded the bright blue comforter, because even in the event of an actual zombie apocalypse, he's considered a guest. But he's not complaining.

The room feels stuffy, though, which probably has something to do with the multiple layers of sweat, blood, and dirt coating his skin. He's sure that underneath the grit and grime, both of them are black and blue with bruises, but they have access to neither a functioning shower nor a first aid kit. So they'll make do.

The boys spend the next twenty minutes tossing and turning in attempts to get into good positions on Sally Jackson's ugly green couches, breathing in the rancid air and not speaking. Then, for the second time that night, Percy breaks the silence.

"What's left? We leave camp, we fight for the city. But the city's already dead. We're fighting for our _lives _now. Except, ya'know, it's not a quest anymore, it's _all the time_. What are we fighting for? Just—fuck. I don't know. I'm tired."

"There's us."

"What?"

"We're fighting for each other, aren't we?"

Percy doesn't answer. _Gods_, Nico thinks. _You actually said that. Aloud. Stupid. God, Nico, you're so—_

"Yeah," says Percy, and the funny thing is, he sounds like he means it. "We are." There are some rustling sounds, probably Percy shifting again to get comfortable. "Goodnight, Nico."

"Goodnight, Percy."

It's a zombie apocalypse. Nico should not be blushing.

* * *

_hamburger_

* * *

"I really want a hamburger."

"You're vegetarian," says Reyna flatly, not looking up from her short sword. It's not like they have anything to look good for, but Reyna insists on polishing it every day. Piper doesn't say anything about it anymore. It's her thing, whatever.

Piper sighs. "I'm only vegetarian when I don't want a hamburger."

"Won't you get sick?" Reyna says, pushing sweaty hair behind her ear before going back to her work.

Piper pauses. "Possibly," she consents, shrugging. "But, you know. YOLO."

Reyna snorts loudly. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Who've you got to tell?"

Reyna's jaw hardens slightly for a minute, like if the subject was pushed she might cry. "Anything we find that's still edible will be frozen or canned. Sorry, Pipes, I think we'll stick with baked beans and tomato soup."

"We should find a camper stove," says Piper. "Is that what they're called? All the canned food will be gone or spoiled within months, probably."

"We could move," says Reyna uncertainly. "Head south."

"It'd still be nice to find a sports store or something, though. Boots, thermoses, iodine, a stove… And then head south. Before winter. I doubt we'll last two months in this tiny cabin, much less an entire season."

"You're right," says Reyna. "I'm not sure it's properly equipped for beauty queens."

Piper laughs and shoves Reyna's shoulder playfully, and soon after, the girls decide to head out tomorrow in search of a well-stocked supply store and turn in for the night, sharing the small bed with its thin white sheets.

They set out from the forest cabin and into the small Pennsylvania town nearby around eight in the morning, and by eleven, they have not found a sports supply store, but they take large backpacks from a small department store and fill them with warm, clean clothing in preparation for the winter Piper's convinced they'll never be ready for. They each discover a pair of hiking boots in their size and let out quiet victory cheers, quickly exchanging their battered sneakers for the sturdier leather.

By noon they've given up on finding a sports supply store. They step into the small community grocery store instead, silent and cautious. Piper goes first, holding Katoptris in front of her defensively, with Reyna matching pace behind her, facing the door and wielding her religiously polished short sword, studying their surroundings distrustfully.

They make it into the canned foods aisle without incident. Reyna hurriedly passes Piper an extra backpack, which she immediately begins to fill with cans, not bothering to check their dates. When inside familiar places, Reyna and Piper have learned the hard way to get in and out as quickly as possible. Stores are dark, and every noise echoes. The Undead could be hiding anywhere. Behind the magazine rack, in an Oreo pyramid on the snack aisle. They were scarily smart.

Soon the bag is full, and the girls, tired from a long day of gathering, zip it closed and let their weapons hang loosely in their hands, walking leisurely to the front entrance of the store.

"I still think we should—"

"PIPER, WATCH OUT!"

Instinctively, Piper ducks. She hears the sharp blade of Reyna's short sword cut through the air above her head before a wet tearing sound and, a fraction of a second later, a dull thud. Some type of fluid spatters onto her hand, and she flinches and wipes it onto her jeans without having the stomach to look.

She slowly stands back up and faces Reyna. There's dark blood, almost black, spattered up her forearm and on the blade of her weapon. But she doesn't pay it any attention. Her eyes are focused behind Piper, on the body now lying on the floor of Nowhere, Pennsylvania's FoodMart. Piper turns slowly to see what's catching the other girl's attention, and she's not sure what she's scared of seeing there until she sees it.

Everything from the length of the body, to the tan long-fingered hands, to the tattered purple tee shirt strikes a familiar chord in her mind. Away from the body, off to the left, is its head. Dry, golden hair catches the sunlight. It's the most disturbing thing Piper's ever seen in her life.

And it's Jason's.

She hears a slight whimper from behind her, and she's turned toward Reyna in a flash. She catches the other girl in her arms and they stay there for a while, in the entrance of FoodMart, mourning the boy they both loved, and then Piper starts sobbing too.

They manage to pull themselves together before sunset, and, carrying their burdens and each other, make it back to their cabin before dark. Reyna robotically puts away their food as Piper sits on the floor and watches her blankly.

"I wonder how he got all the way down here," says Reyna quietly. She's sorting through the food that's still edible now; Reyna prefers everything neatly categorized.

"I remember…" Piper says, and sniffs. She rubs her nose and lowers her watery eyes to the ground. "I remember that expression he used to make when he was concentrating. I hated it."

Reyna lets out a little half-chuckle, against her will. "Like he was constipated."

A tear leaks from Piper's left eye, and she wipes it away almost angrily. "Yeah. And when his hair needed cutting."

"It looked terrible. And when he used to laugh so hard he went hoarse."

"I loved that."

"Me too."

Reyna puts the last of the tomato soup on its designated shelf and closes the cabinet door softly, and then she pulls something else from the bag. Piper cranes her neck. "What's that?"

"Frozen turkey burgers. They were on the floor."

Piper tries to smile, and it's _slightly _easier than she thought it would be. "That's close enough."

* * *

_ghost aches_

* * *

If there's one person Leo Valdez did not expect to be trapped in the wilderness with, it's Clarisse La Rue.

There's also her boyfriend Chris, of course, but he's much more polite.

"Day three," Leo says, in his 'sports announcer voice.' "La Rue has consistently failed to come up with an actual plan."

Chris shot him a warning look, and Clarisse made a sort-of-scary growling noise in the back of her throat. "You can always go off on your own, fire chief."

"What are you gonna do? Kick me out of the club? I'm only providing a bit of comic relief here." Leo raises his hands as if to declare surrender.

"Are you? I'm not laughing."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Leo mutters to himself.

"What?" snaps Clarisse.

"He didn't say anything," Chris says, smoothly cutting into the budding argument. He shoots Leo a look as if to say, you owe me one.

Clarisse doesn't direct another comment in his direction, and Leo is, for once, grateful for silence. He doesn't know how to feel; he's lost, confused, angry, sad, and, idiotically, a little bit excited. There's something so cool about the idea of an actual, full-fledged zombie apocalypse—until you're in one. But he does know that he misses _everything_.

He misses Bunker Nine, and his siblings. He misses joking around with Piper and teasing Jason and everything else. He even kind of misses the Stoll brothers and their constant idiotic commentary. But mostly, he misses Calypso.

He wonders what she's doing. He wonders if the disease has spread to Ogygia, and infected her birds. He hopes not. He wonders if she misses him.

And he can't stop thinking about it. It's starting to fill him up, and it hurts.

They walk for hours before stumbling upon a used campsite and deciding to stay there for the night. After they've debated the pros and cons of starting a fire, and then after actually making one, Clarisse looks at Leo and says something he's pretty sure tasted like vinegar in her mouth.

"You were right." He's just swallowed some water, and he's tempted to ask her to repeat herself just so he can do a spit take this time. But he just says,

"What?"

"We do need a plan. A good one. Before this all blows over, we need to be somewhere they can't get us."

"Right," he and Chris agree simultaneously.

"I was thinking..." Clarisse trails off, and her eyebrows furrow. "I'm not sure if this has spread overseas. We don't really have a way of knowing anymore. But an island, even, would be safe. They definitely don't have the endurance for swimming, they can't operate machinery as far as we can tell. We just need a real destination. And a way to get to it."

Leo nods along enthusiastically. This is barely a foundation for the planning they'll need, but it could mean good things for him, for something he's been thinking of all day. Maybe...

The conversation trails off soon after. There's not really anything to make small talk of or gossip about anymore. Clarisse heads off a distance and unrolls her sleeping bag, leaving Leo still leaned up against the tree that's been supporting him for hours, hoping, with sparks leaping from his fingers.

"You taking first watch?" asks Chris, as he stands up and rubs his large hands together. Leo shoots a stream of red heat into the fire and the clearing instantly warms. It's starting to get cold out. They aren't prepared for this.

"Yeah," Leo says, absently, watching the flames dance in his palm.

"What are you so happy about, anyway? Ever since Clarisse said something 'bout an island..."

"Nothing," says Leo. "Just some girl."

* * *

**gah that was kinda really bad and the last part especially but i hope it's good enough anyways zoeyyyyy~**

**bye**


End file.
